2 The Girl Without Hobbies #2
“Making up for lost time?” I asked. She tossed a pillow at me and I batted it back, laughing. “You guys must really be in love.”
“I know I am,” she said with a smile.
I thought of Monty and me as she dug back into her gummies.
Did anyone think we were in love when they saw us?
I wasn’t exactly affectionate with him, but he wasn’t with me either.
And that was OK, right? You didn’t have to make out all the time to show that you cared about someone. I asked Naya how she met Will.
“It was simple,” she replied. “My dad’s friends with his dad. My parents got divorced, and we all met in a restaurant, and while the two men were talking, Will and I were kind of left to ourselves. He asked me for my number, I gave it to him…and the rest is history.”
“And it’s been smooth sailing since then?”
“Not exactly. I mean, Will’s never been the problem.
Not exactly. It’s a long story. But before I came here, I was part of this really close group at my high school: Ross, Will, me, and this other girl.
I liked her a lot, but we also had out disagreements, and when there were problems with her, I always took them out on Will. ”
“It’s hard to imagine you guys fighting,” I told her.
“You should see us when we get mad. But we always make up after a few minutes. What about you and…what’s his name, Monty? Do you guys argue much?”
“Eh…sometimes.” Lots, actually. Every time we saw each other. But I didn’t want to admit that. She asked if we’d been together a long time.
“Is four months a long time? Because that’s the longest I’ve ever been with a guy.”
“Four months isn’t long, but I know it can feel like it. When you’re with the right guy, though, time flies… How corny! I must have had too much sugar,” she said.
I laughed as she grabbed her phone, which had just started buzzing: “Yeah? Hey, babe… Yeah, I’m in my room… For real? You’re the best! Hold on.”
She asked me if I wanted to go see a band Ross’s friends were in. But before I could answer, she got back on the phone and said, “Jenna’s in. An hour…? Perfect. See you soon.”
I tried to protest, but she cut me off. “Jenna, even Sue’s coming. And they only manage to pry her off the bed a couple of times a year.”
“It’s not easy to tell you no, is it?” I asked. “Fine. I’ll go take a shower.”
“Almost impossible. Now hurry up. I need to go in after you.”
If we were going to see a band, I guessed it would be in a bar—though I wasn’t sure, since I’d never been to a concert.
Fuck, Ross was right. I’d literally never done anything.
Naya showered quickly after me, to my surprise, and when she came out, she helped me pick my outfit: ripped jeans and a sweater.
She opted for a black skirt. I had to wait around while she put on her makeup and checked herself out in the mirror in my closet.
Even when the knock came on the door, she wasn’t ready.
I opened up and saw a bored-looking Ross standing there.
“I’m not trying to rush you guys,” he said, “but Sue’s getting cranky. And I don’t want to be responsible for whatever she does to Will in my absence.”
“Jeez, Ross, I’m just putting on my makeup!” Naya shouted.
He leaned his head on the doorframe. “Why do I feel like I’m having déjà vu?” he asked. “Oh, yeah: because this happens every single time we go out.”
She told him to shut up, but he peeked his head in and said, “Listen, if you’re not ready in five minutes, we’re going without you and Will can check out every chick in the bar because he knows I’ll never tell.”
Naya turned toward us with an innocent smile. “Ready!” she announced. Then she hurried past us and halfway down the stairs before turning around and saying, “Come on, guys, we’re going to be late!”
Ross shook his head.
I asked him whether he’d ever considered being a teacher. “You’re really good at establishing authority.”
“I’d rather die,” he said.
I was slipping on the jacket I’d draped over my arm as we walked toward the front door. Chris had just enough time to look up at Ross and scowl. “You said you’d be right down!” he shouted.
“Chrissy, short visits aren’t against the rules,” Ross replied.
“Stop calling me ‘Chrissy.’ Also, it’s dark out. That means it’s nighttime. That means no visits. I hope you’re listening too, Jenna.”
Like it was my fault he was so miserable! I mumbled that it had just been two minutes, and he shot back, “Rules are rules.”
“‘Rules are rules,’” Ross said in a joking nasal voice, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
As we hit the lot, I saw Sue’s head emerge from the car window and she asked, “Can you guys speed it up?” She and Ross and I sat in the back seat.
I saw what she was really angry about: Will and Naya were already making out as if none of the rest of us existed.
Ross told them, “Hey, whenever you guys are ready, we can go. No rush. We’re only running half an hour late.”
Will apologized, started the car, and said hello to me.
“Hey,” I said, then remarked to Naya, “So you spent twenty minutes fixing your lipstick just to mess it up in a few seconds.”
“It was worth it,” she said with a glowing smile.
The bar was close to campus, but it was rainy, so it was best that we drove, especially because parking was easy to find.
Inside, everyone was staring at the stage, where a singer with a shrill voice and a bunch of zits on his face was screaming into the microphone while some guy was abusing a guitar and another was banging the drums like he’d lost his mind.
The music wasn’t very good. Actually, it was terrible.
“So…you’re friends with these guys?” I asked Ross.
“Yeah!” He smiled proudly. “They’re great, right? They practice all the time.”
“You can tell,” I lied. “They’re very…original.”
“Probably you’ve never heard anyone like this, right?”
I sure hadn’t. Ross stared at me across the high-top table and then cracked up laughing. “I’ve got no idea who these guys are, but if they plan on doing this for a living, I’m afraid they’re going to starve,” he confessed.
Embarrassed, I shouted, “Why’d you do that? I was trying not to offend you.”
“Jenna, I doubt you could ever offend me.”
I asked where the band he knew was, and he said they were up next. I sat down and he sat next to me. He was clearly staring at me, and I could feel it. He told me I was a bad liar—the same thing my mother said. Was I? Yes , my brain answered.
Thanks, Brain.
Will complained about the openers still being onstage while we all ordered beer except for Naya, who asked for a cocktail, and Sue, who ordered nothing, taking a bottle of water out of her bag.
I assumed it was one of those places that didn’t ID you.
I asked Sue if she liked beer, trying not to shut her out of the conversation, and she made a weird remark about how I’d better not ask her for a sip of her water that made me realize I should have just left her in peace.
Whatever. I turned toward the stage when Naya said the headliners were about to come on.
Once again, it was three guys. The openers and a few bar employees helped one guy set up their keyboard and drums while another plugged in a guitar and the last one, long-haired and wearing short shorts and a jean vest with no shirt, took his place behind the microphone.
“Interesting choice of outfit,” I said to Ross.
He didn’t seem particularly impressed, which I found weird since they were supposed to be his friends.
As soon as they started playing, I stuck my fingers in my ears.
It was all just yelling and banging, and the rest of the clientele didn’t seem to appreciate it any more than I did.
Luckily, after twenty minutes, they took a break.
Will seemed amused at my reaction and asked me what I thought. I couldn’t even formulate a complete thought before Ross jumped in. “Just say it. They’re horrible. Everyone’s thinking it.”
“Not everyone,” Naya said, pointing at the front row, where five or so girls wearing T-shirts with the lead singer’s face on them were clapping and shouting the names of their songs while the band members pointed at them.
Then they went to the bar for a drink and a regular soundtrack came on, to our gratification.
Everyone seemed tired of the group after their first short set. Or almost everyone.
“I liked them,” Sue blurted out.
We all turned to her with the same confused expression, and Naya asked what exactly she had liked.
“I like things that are ugly and terrible and suck.”
Two members of the band went to talk to their groupies while the singer came up to Ross. I saw he had a tattoo of a heart on his thigh. “What do you think, bro?” he asked. “Great, right?”
“Fascinating,” Ross responded.
“How about the rest of y’all?” he asked our little group with a smile.
Will and Naya froze, then nodded. Sue frowned. I tried to smile and said, “Oh, it was great.”
“And you are?” he asked.
“Yes, I am,” I said, eliciting a grin from Ross. The singer turned, and I thought he was angry, but instead he dragged over a chair and shoved it between Ross and me, putting his arms over our shoulders.
“The name’s Mike,” he introduced himself. “I’m this idiot’s brother.”
I’m sorry—this was Ross’s brother ? But now that he said it, I could see a certain resemblance. Ross was taller, and less uncool—from what I could tell so far—and his hair was shorter, but they had similar eyes and similar features.
“Alas, he’s not lying,” Ross said.
“Don’t worry,” Will said. “They’re very different.”
Mike asked my name again and Ross told him not to worry about it, and that he’d done his duty by coming to see his brother perform so Mike should tell their mother he was off the hook for another year.
“How can you talk that way in front of my new fans?” Mike asked. “You should support your brother more.”
“When you give me something to support, I will,” Ross said.
Mike chuckled and asked, “Is she yours?”